


Prodigal Son

by NocturnalNautica (EarthGirl)



Series: Sparkling AU [5]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: (But the pov character doesn't know much about his origins, Canon Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Guns, I feel like that should get a warning, M/M, Mention of humans forcibly using a transformer as a common vehicle, Mention of rape (there isn't and there won't be anything non-consensual anywhere in this AU), No one who dies in this part is staying dead, Sibling Rivalry, and fears he may have been conceived through rape), mention of self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-04-28 02:38:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14439681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EarthGirl/pseuds/NocturnalNautica
Summary: Four million years have passed, and Optimus Prime's sons are all grown up. Serious, responsible Bumblebee, and fun-loving, adventurous Rodimus are both kind, heroic, and devoted to their friends, and their father is extremely proud of both of his boys.If only they'd learn to get along.With the war finally over, the Autobots turn to Prime's sons as the leaders who'll hopefully guide them through the transition to peace and into a new, happier era. Is this shared responsibility what the brothers needed to finally put aside their differences, or will the pressure only make their relationship worse?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a bit nervous about covering phase one, but Roddy has some important development in it and it seemed like the best point in which to introduce his adult self, so let's do it!
> 
> I know a lot of people who haven't read this part of the comics, so quick summary of what's going on in canon at this point: Cybertron has been rendered uninhabitable and had to be abandoned. The Decepticons stole the Matrix. Megs and OP had a battle that ended with Megs severely injured and presumed dead. He's actually just recovering from his wounds, but the Autobots don't know that yet. Starscream now commands the Decepticons, but he's too distracted by the Matrix and just keeps staring at it, all "my precious", instead of actually doing anything, so the Decepticons have been quiet for two years and the war is basically over. Optimus and most Autobot commanders are hanging out on Earth, as Optimus doesn't want to risk leaving the planet defenseless if the Decepticons return. But Hot Rod is growing restless and can't wait to leave and move on with his life.
> 
> That's where this fic starts from. :) Things in this universe didn't happen exactly as they did in canon, but any changes will become clear as the story progresses. I hope you enjoy this part. :)

Planet Earth. It was a lovely day, and the sun shone brightly over a desert where two sleek cars were racing at top speed.  They were neck to neck when the red and white one suddenly gained a boost. Running a bit ahead, he turned and cut off the front of the red and orange one, who was forced to return to robot mode to avoid a collision. Transforming while slowing down from such a speed caused him to fall on the ground. A beep from his radio system informed him he had a call, but he ignored it to shout at his companion.

“Drift, you cheater, that was so fragging unfair!”

Laughing, the other car returned to robot mode and jumped on top of the him. There was another beep from the radio, but no one paid it any mind. The two robots rolled around on the sand, wrestling playfully and cursing at each other, until at last Drift pinned his friend firmly against the ground. After a token last attempt at resistance, the captured mech went still.

“Yield so easily, Hot Rod?” Drift asked, smiling predatorily.

“Yes,” said Hot Rod, with an arrogant little smile that seemed to convey the opposite of what he was saying. “I yield. You win. Come and claim your pri-AH!”

He yelped when Drift’s digits found their way to a transformation seam on his waist.

“My prize is being too cocky,” said Drift, while teasing the sensitive seam and ignoring Hot Rod’s scandalous moans. “Guess I’ll have to teach him how to behave.”

“I’m all yours,” Hot Rod whispered, offlining his optics and opening his mouth for a kiss.

He barely registered that his communicator was beeping again. Drift was leaning forward, and nothing mattered to Hot Rod but those delicious lips approaching his, those skilled, elegant digits dancing over his frame, those gorgeous thighs pinning him down, and AH, yes, that way Drift had of softly sucking on his lower lip…

BEEEP!

This time the sound was loud enough to startle him and make him half-jump under his partner’s frame. Drift stopped moving and stared at him.

“What happened?”

“Bumblebee’s been trying to call me for the past five minutes.”

Drift sighed and rolled off him.

“Guess you better get that then.”

Hot Rod nodded and groaned as he finally took the call.

“Oi!”

“Oh, hello, Rodimus. How nice to know that your communicator is functional.”

Hot Rod had to control himself not to scream. Only his brother could annoy him so much with just two short sentences. Bumblebee’s tone of voice was one that he _knew_ Hot Rod hated, a mixture of sarcasm and superiority that always implied that Hot Rod had done something _much_ worse than whatever Bee was angry at him for, and that he, Bumblebee, was the most magnanimous person in the word for managing to speak to him so calmly. And as for “Rodimus”…

It wasn’t that Hot Rod had anything _against_ his full name. On the contrary, he rather liked the sound of it. It was just that it was so serious, so… So similar to “Optimus”, that he couldn’t help feeling like it didn’t fit him. And most people seemed to agree, as only his father and his father’s oldest friends called him “Rodimus” these days. Everyone else went with a nickname. He had several, out of which “Hot Rod” was the most popular, to the point where he’d started introducing himself as such.  Of course, it would have been awkward for his brother to call him that, and he’d never have expected it… But Bumblebee could have stuck with the childhood “Roddy”, or moved from that to “Rodders”, like most of their school friends had.

But no. Bumblebee insisted on calling him “Rodimus”, not seeming to realize how ridiculous that made him sound. Hot Rod supposed the goal was to shame him, to make him feel childish for preferring his nicknames, but all it actually did was make Bumblebee sound like he was trying way too hard to look older and more serious than he was.

It was still annoying, though.

“We have an emergency here at base,” Bumblebee proceeded. “Come back at once, and bring Drift with you.”

“Yes, sir,” Hot Rod responded in his most sarcastic tone, before hanging up and turning to Drift with a regretful sigh. “Party’s over. We’re wanted back at the base.”

“Pity. But these things happen.” Drift threw him a seductive smile. “We can continue this another time. Don’t think I’ll forget where we stopped.”

Hot Rod laughed as they transformed back into cars and started driving.

“I’m hoping you won’t,” he said, trying to maintain the flirting, but his spark was no longer in it and Drift could tell.

“Is anything wrong?”

“No, it’s just… Drift, did you ever notice that when I’m on a mission and am unexpectedly needed back at the base I get the message from whoever happens to be near the communicators at the time, but when I have to be called back from something fun it’s almost always Bumblebee who makes the call?”

“Oh. No, I hadn’t, but now that you mention it…”

“Ok, so you see it too. Good to know. I have a witness, I can prove my case, if I ever confront him about it he can't accuse me of making this up.” Hot Rod sighed. “You know, you’d think that on _emergency_ situations he’d be too busy to take advantage of an opportunity to lecture me. But no, it’s always ‘Rodimus, what do you think you are doing, disappearing like this,’ ‘Rodimus, while you were meteor surfing, some of us have been dealing with a crisis,’ ‘Rodimus, how nice of you to finally online communications.’ That last one wasn’t even my fault, you know I never offline my radio-“

“ _I know_ ,” said Drift. This hadn’t been the first time one of Bumblebee’s calls had caught them in an intimate moment, and not all previous interruptions had occurred so early in the encounter.

“-but on that day I was helping Brainstorm to test some weird sound weapon he was working on, and it interfered with my signal. I had to get Brainstorm to tell Bumblebee that, because Bee wouldn’t believe me. And even after that, he kept saying something about me not being trained for that kind of lab work, and that it was irresponsible of Brainstorm to ask me…  I don't know, he just kept quoting regulations, sounded more like Ultra Magnus’ kid than Dad’s, and I just… I don’t get it. Why does he hate fun? Can you tell me that, Drift? Why does my brother hate fun? I’ve tried dragging him to parties, I tried…”

“…teaching him how to surf, setting him up with some of the hottest guys you two went to school with, and nothing worked, he just continues acting like taking time to wind down is a crime, doesn’t he know that relaxation is vital to keep as mentally health as possible during the stress of the war…” continued Drift. Hot Rod groaned.

“Ok, ok, I got it. You’ve heard that rant before.”

“A few dozen times, yeah” Drift said casually. “I’ve heard Bee’s version too. ‘How can that boy be so irresponsible, doesn’t he see we’re fighting for the future of an entire species, how does he expect us to succeed without a minimum of order, I try so hard to set a good example, but…’”

“Good example?!?” Hot Rod exploded. “Who the frag does he think he is? Dad?!? Look, I appreciate that he’s a bit older and that he had to look after me a few times when we were little, and that may have made him overprotective or whatever, but we’re both adults now, and he’s my _brother_. He should be helping me to get in and out of trouble, not wasting his life trying to prevent me and anybody else from getting in it! That’s what brothers are supposed to be for, and…” Drift accelerated, putting some distance between them, and Hot Rod realized his mistake. Cursing at himself, he caught up to Drift.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok.”

Brothers were a sensitive issue around Drift. An orphan from the Dead End, he’d survived childhood with the help of a gang of other sparklings who to this day he considered his brothers. Some of them had been killed by Autobots during Sentinel’s and Zeta’s regimes-  the regimes Hot Rod’s father had served under- and all who’d survived had become Decepticons when the war started. Three of them were still alive. They thought of Drift as a traitor.

Hot Rod knew he should learn to keep his mouth shut around Drift about that topic. But Bumblebee infuriated him so much, it just…

He sighed. No time for that. They were getting close to the base, and he had to keep his processor cool to deal with his brother and with whatever the sudden crisis was. He’d just have to find a way to make it up to Drift later.

* * *

 

Thinking that he’d have time to deal with his relationship issues anytime soon proved to be a hopelessly optimistic assumption. The crisis they were facing was indeed serious. Prowl had been captured by humans and was currently being driven down some street as a common Earth car. The thought of it was enough to make Hot Rod sick. Plans started being made at once for a rescue operation late that night. Everyone was fully focused on the preparations until, midway through them, Hot Rod decided to ask:

“And when are we leaving Earth, Dad?”

Optimus Prime stared at him.

“We’re not leaving. We’ve talked about this.”

“Yeah, but don’t you think the situation has changed?" He asked heatedly. "The only reason why we came to this planet was to protect it from Decepticon attacks. The Decepticons have been quiet for two years, and _if_ they decide to start shit again, I think the humans have just proved they are _perfectly capable_ of defending themselves.”

“Rodimus, I know you’re upset, I am too, but think about what our war has done to this planet…”

“I know, Dad, but the war is over and we’ve already done _everything_ we could to help Earth to recover from the damage it caused. We had nothing to do last year, we’re just wasting our time here, and now we’re also at danger of being _kidnapped and depersonalized_. There is _no_ reason to stay!”

“There are still Decepticons in this planet, and it’s our responsibility to protect humans from…”

“They are no threat to the humans! We’ve been watching them for two years and they haven’t done a thing! They’re useless without Megatron, and Megatron is dead!”

Something changed in his father’s optics, and his voice was strangely tremulous when he replied.

“Rodimus, we can discuss this after we bring Prowl back home.”

“Dad, by the time we get Prowl back who knows how much they’ll have learned from whatever they’re doing to him? We have no time to lose, we…”

“Kid, your father said you’ll talk _later_ ,” Ironhide interrupted firmly. Hot Rod sighed. He knew from long experience that when Ironhide or Ratchet interfered in his discussions with his father, it was time to stop.

Frustrated, he prepared to storm out, but his father called him back. Sending everyone else out of the room, Optimus made his younger son sit by his side.

“Rodimus, there is no time to discuss this properly now, but I want to try to settle a couple of things between us, alright? I understand your point of view. I do. But I need you to at least try to understand mine. Imagine if we do it your way and leave, and it turns out that’s what the Decepticons were waiting for to begin attacking the humans again. ”

“Why would they do that? Their cause is done, none of their commanders are her…”

“Spite. Anger. To hurt me because they know I care about this planet. You know how wars work, Roddy, and don’t try to say that the war is over. That may be true officially, but it’ll be a long time before it’s over inside people’s sparks.”

“I know,” Hot Rod admitted. “But that’s why I want to leave here, Dad! We can’t get past the war, we can’t try to move forward while we’re stuck here with the reminders of the battles we fought!”

Optimus nodded, but said nothing. He seemed to be deep in thought, so Hot Rod thought it best to wait. After a long time, Optimus declared:

“Rodimus, you’re leading Prowl’s rescue tonight.”

“What?!? I… Thanks for the confidence, but I don’t understand where that came from?”

“I can’t leave Earth until I’m _sure_ the planet is safe from Decepticons. But you’re right, son, I have no right to keep anyone here against their will. So after Prowl is back, we’re going to talk about maybe sending out an expedition to find us a new planet, and I hope you’ll be able to lead it, since no one is more passionate about that then you. But you were born during the war, and I don’t want to send you out on your own without any experience as a peace-time leader. So tonight will be your first try at that. Go out there, bring Prowl home, investigate the labs if you want to and have a chance, but _do not shoot_ , unless Decepticons appear.  No humans will be harmed, _no matter what they do_. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Dad. And… Thanks. I won’t let you down.”

Optimus gave his helm an affectionate tap.

“I know you won’t.”

* * *

 

It was easier said than done. Prowl’s capture turned out to be a trap. Hot Rod did his best to get his entire team out of there without violence, but in doing so he ended up exposing himself to danger. A lifetime of war meant that his reflexes in such a situation were to grab a gun, and as he had promised his father not to do that, he froze for half a second. It was enough for Ironhide to interfere and throw himself between Hot Rod and the bullets. They managed to carry Ironhide back to the base, but it was too late for Ratchet to do anything.

Hot Rod was in shock. Nothing made him feel worse than when someone died under his command. Something like that was _supposed_ to hit hard, of course, but it always seemed to affect him even more than it did his fellow commanders. He had once overheard Prowl try to convince his father that he was unfit for command, for that very reason. His inner energon had boiled with fury that day, and it still did most of the times when he remembered that conversation. But every time someone died in his watch he went through a period of temporarily agreeing with Prowl’s assessment, even though he’d never confess that to anyone.

And due to its timing, Ironhide’s death was being even harder to digest than previous ones. How could that have happened?!? They were supposed to be in peace! Would this never end? Was the Galactic Council right, were Cybertronians doomed to perpetual war? Hot Rod angrily punched a wall to try to get rid of that thought. No! They were better than that, they were, he _knew_ it, and he was determined not to stop until he had proved that to the entire universe, until he had found a place where his people could settle down and be happy, until…

“Hot Rod, come quickly!”

Drift had come into the room, and was agitated enough to completely ignore the sight of the newly broken wall.

“Drift, whatever it is, I’m not in the m…”

“It’s your father. He wants to surrender to the humans!”

“He _what_?!?”

Hot Rod reached the central room in record time. Bumblebee was standing quietly on a corner, watching as their father argued furiously with Ratchet. Prowl tried to join the argument, but as he was still in recovery his contributions were sparse.

“Dad, what’s happening?!?” Hot Rod asked, running to join the group. “Drift said that you want to…”

“I’m not fit for command anymore, Rodimus. I should never have let things get to a point in which what happened to Prowl was even possible. And once the situation happened, I handled it so badly that Ironhide paid with his life.”

“That was my fault, Dad, it was _my_ operation!”

Optimus grabbed his shoulders and stared earnestly into his optics.

“Listen to me. It was _not_ your fault, Roddy. _I_ miscalculated when I gave command to you. I’ve been miscalculating everything since the end of the war, and causing all of you nothing but harm. Maybe I was a good wartime leader, but I’m in the way now. You need to find a new path that is more suitable to times of peace.”

“You can’t just…. Resign. Dad, you’re a _Prime_!”

“A Prime who lost the Matrix.”

“No, the Prime who _found_ the Matrix after millions of years of it being lost, and put an end to a corrupt line of false Primes!”             

Optimus hesitated, and for a second, Hot Rod dared to hope his words had gone through. But then his father spoke, softly, and all hope was gone.

“You’re always so supportive, Rodimus. I thank you. But this isn’t about me. I’m just trying to do what is best for the rest of you.”

“How can the best for us be to stand aside and let them do to you what they did to Prowl?!? You agreed that was horrifying!” He turned angrily to the others. “Why aren’t you helping me?!? Say something! Bumblebee, are you just going to let Dad…”

“ _Let_ Dad?" His brother laughed in despair. "Rodimus, listen to yourself! Since when have we been able to stop Dad from doing anything?”

“Since when have you even _tried_ , Bee? You’re always accusing me of being childish, but you’re the one who still thinks it’s a capital crime to question anything Dad does! Yeah, yeah, he always knew better when we were sparklings, but breaking news, we’re all adults now, have been for a long time! We’re allowed to disagree with him, _especially_ when he starts thinking that it’s his duty to throw himself in harm’s way for no good reason!”

“You _are_ too self-sacrificing for your own good, Optimus, the kid has a definite point there,” said Ratchet. His tone, however, was the tired one of a person who was still arguing on principle, but had already conceded defeat.

“Listen, all of you,” said Optimus, in a gentle tone that somehow commanded so much authority even Hot Rod felt obliged to listen. “I appreciate your concern, but it’s the only way. The humans are entitled to some compensation for what our people did to theirs, and if I offer myself I can simultaneously fulfill my duty to protect them if the Decepticons attack again and free you to follow a new path.”

Bumblebee threw his brother an angry look, as if to say “see, this is all your fault. You're the one who gave him these ideas about 'new paths'.”

Hot Rod ignored it.

“Dad, you know what they’ll do to you, don’t you?” He continued anxiously. A troubling new thought came to him, and his optics widened. “Hold on! Are… Are you doing this to punish yourself for Ironhide? Do you want us to call Kimia? We can call Kimia right away and get Rung to come see you, if that would help! Or Chromedome, or…?”

“Roddy, _this is not about me_. I thank you for your concern, son, but if you want to do something for me, make some plans that would never occur to me, and take care of the people who decide to follow you into it. And _stop worrying_ about me.”

Optimus hugged him. Hot Rod returned the hug with more strength than necessary, as if he intended to physically prevent him from leaving, but he let go when asked. Optimus then hugged Bumblebee, who, despite his words, did not seen any more willing than Rodimus to let him go.

“Alright, kids," said Optimus, letting go of Bumblebee. "Take care. Ratchet..."

"I'll look after them, old friend," said Ratchet, as if Bumblebee and Hot Rod were still sparklings. Optimus exchanged a quick hug with his best friend as well, then transformed, and rolled out. They all would have liked to run after him and try to bring him back, but none of them did. They simply stared until the truck disappeared from view, and only then did Hot Rod's frustration explode again.

“FRAG!” He shouted, taking a page from Prowl’s book and turning a table in rage. “FRAG! FRAG! FRAG!”

“Roddy, calm down…”

“How can I calm down, Drift? My father is about to be turned into a slave for some human who'll treat him as a non-sentient truck! Either that or they'll give him some frag talk about fearing Decepticons, and he’ll fall for it and let them study him, and they'll learn enough about us to turn that knowledge into weapons! And then they'll probably turn it against other hum…" He stopped for a moment, shocked by his own stupidity. "THAT’S WHAT I SHOULD HAVE TOLD HIM! THAT THE HUMANS WILL USE HIM AGAINST OTHER HUMANS! He’d have listened to that!” He turned to the room at large. “ **Why didn’t anyone think of that?!?** ”

“He’ll probably think of it himself,” said Ratchet calmly, “and earlier than you expect. He’ll find his way back to us, then, or to send us a message to go get him. I’m upset too, but trust me, kid, I’ve seen your dad survive way worse than this, alright?”

Ratchet had known him since he was a baby, and knew how to deflate his rage spurts better than anyone but Optimus himself. And besides, the CMO was used to dealing with difficult patients, and he knew when to employ that skill to get Hot Rod to calm down. Feeling suddenly exhausted, Hot Rod nodded in agreement and sunk into the couch, still upset, but too drained to keep shouting. To his immense surprise, Bumblebee sat by his side and offered him an energon stick.

“I'm sorry, Rodimus. I’m really upset about this too, but it’s just… There’s no stopping him. Like Ratchet said, when Dad does things like that he eventually realizes his mistake and comes back to the team. I don’t like this process any more than you do, but we have to respect his time.”

“That’s easier said than done, considering the risk, Bee.”

“Look who’s talking,” Bee gave him an affectionate smile. “You’re always taking risks. You _love_ taking risks. If the concept of taking risks became corporeal, you’d ask them to be your conjunx.”

Hot Rod smiled sadly. He was grateful for Bumblebee's rare attempt at a joke, but it wasn't enough to get his mind out of the problem.

“Yeah, but I never court risk when it’s Dad’s safety on the line. You know that.”

“I know. But it’s as Ratchet said, he’ll come back when he’s ready, and until then we have to respect his choice.”

“My fear is him not having the chance to come back when he wants to.”

“That frightens me too,” confessed Bee. “But that’s why we’ll keep a close eye on the situation, won’t we?”

Hot Rod didn’t answer. After a moment, Bumblebee understood the reason for his silence and stared at him in disbelief.

“No… You can’t be serious…”

“Bee…”

“You’re _leaving_?!?”

“Well, _you_ ’re staying, aren’t you?” Said Hot Rod, defensively.

“Of course I’m staying! Dad might need us, aren’t you the one who just established that?!?”

“Dad might need _someone_ , Bee, and you’re fully up to the task. And if you need me, or anyone who goes with me, we’ll be back the minute you call.”

“Not if you’re across the galaxy, out of reach because you ran inside another meteor shower _on purpose_ , or…”

“Wait, is **that** what you think I’m off to do? Do you really think I’d leave Dad in this situation to go seek out thrill rides?!?”

“Why else would you want to leave?!? You keep talking about how bored you are here, you waste all your time going off with Drift who knows where, and…”

“Hey! Leave Drift out of this!”

Looking a bit abashed, Bee muttered “sorry” at Drift, who nodded, but said nothing. Like everyone else in the room, he was cautiously watching the brothers’ discussion and waiting to see what would come of it.

“Now, listen here, Bee, do you want to know why I’m so desperate to leave Earth? Fine. I’ll tell you, and you’ll feel like an idiot when I’m done. About a year ago, I talked to Chromedome on the radio. It started as the same conversation I’ve been having on repeat with every Autobot not currently on Earth. ‘Hey, Hot Rod, how are things? Megatron’s still dead, right? So _what now_? Did your father give any clues of what comes next?’”

“I’ve been answering those questions too, Rodimus, it comes with being in the comm…”

“Shut the frag up and let me finish! It _started_ as the usual conversation. But then Chromedome said he hoped things would get settled soon, because there was some personal business he and Rewind had to attend to once the war was officially over, and then, after getting whatever that is done, they were looking forward to _settling down and having a sparkling or two_. And it made me realize, Bee, I haven’t _seen_ a sparkling even once in my adult life. Have you? No, you haven’t! Because no one wants to bring sparklings into the mess we’ve been living in for the past four million years! And that’s just so fragged up, Bee. But it should be over by now. Shouldn't it?!? The war is over! People should be moving on and getting to work on their dreams, but we're all still stuck! And sure, it's a tricky adjustment to make, but I think part of it is also because we're essentially homeless. If Cybertron was still alive, we'd all probably be there rebuilding our lives. But our planet is dead, it's not going to get fixed, so we _need_ to find a new planet that we can colonize, one where we can make a safe home for people to live normal... What's the word? Civilian! We need a place where people can build civilian lives, and I’m done waiting for someone else to make the decision to go look for one!”

He thought that had been a winner speech, but all Bumblebee did was roll his eyes.

“Oh, sure! Leave it to you to find a way to rationalize running around on random adventures as something heroic!”

“I can’t believe you’re going to keep disagreeing with me after that explanation! Bee, I’m trying to be responsible here, we need to think of the future…”

“Yeah?” Bumblebee sounded skeptical. “So is Kimia going to be your first stop? Are you going to get Perceptor to go along? Brainstorm? Anyone else who can help you to identify and focus on areas more likely to have uninhabited planets that can support Cybertronian life? Or are you just going to run around doing whatever your friends think sounds fun, and hope you'll stumble around on a viable planet in between adventures?”

“Yes, Bee, as a matter of fact, Kimia _will_ be my first stop, and I _will_ take along every genius who wants to come.”

“Oh. I’m sor…”

“ _But_ I’m not going to confine my crew to the ship until we reach our goal, because Primus knows how long that’ll take, and _every single one_ of us has earned the right to take breaks and have fun whenever possible.”

That angered Bumblebee again.

“Fine. Go, then. Abandon us in a difficult situation, when Dad is clearly dealing with heavy issues over a dear friend’s death…”

“Dad _told us_ to decide what would be best for the future! Before the rescue mission, he had explicitly told me he was going to organize this expedition! You’re not going to guilt me into staying this way. God, Bumblebee, you’ve made your decision and I’ve made mine! Can’t we just accept that we’re different and learn to live with that?!?” Hot Rod turned to the others, who were still watching in silence. “I’m going to organize my things, recharge, and leave early tomorrow morning. Anyone coming with me?”

Drift, of course, was the first to go to his side. Half a dozen more people followed. Looking at the ones who’d decided to stay, Drift frowned.

“Not coming, Ratchet?”

“I can’t. There won’t be any medic in here if I leave, and besides I don’t want to leave while Optimus is with the humans. But I’ll probably try to join you once he’s safely back and I can request a substitute.”

“Fair enough. We’ll be glad to have you when you can join.” Said Hot Rod. “And that goes for all of you! Feel free to join us at any time you can! Well,” he added cheerfully, “I can see Bumblebee still wants to say something, so I’m off to berth before the temptation to punch him becomes too hard to resist! ‘Night, all!”

He dashed off to his quarters. Fuming, Bumblebee locked himself on his father’s former office and started going through official papers. The rest of the group stared nervously at each other for a moment, but said nothing. After four million years of watching the two brothers’ constant arguments, no one had any new comments to make.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying something a bit different this chapter. I think the "excerpts from Vector Sigma Archive" are really fun to read, and I'd been meaning to try writing some of them. There will probably be one or two more chapters in this format down the line, but not more than that. 
> 
> I had to go on a tiny hiatus the past couple of weeks, but I hope I'll be able to go back to updating this series a bit more regularly. :)

****_Excerpt from Vector Sigma Archive:_

_So it was that Hot Rod left the Autobot base, and with him went half a dozen companions.  And they went to Omega Supreme, who was their only hope to break free from Earth, for they had no other ships. Woke from his rest, the ancient spaceship heard their plea, and agreed their cause was fair. So did Hot Rod rejoice, but Omega Supreme asked after Optimus Prime_

_And Rodimus said, My father feels it to be his duty to stay on Earth, but he has given our journey his blessings._

_And upon learning of this Omega Supreme declined the request to serve as the expedition’s transportation, for he would not be taken from his leader._

_My place is where the Prime is, he declared. Since the dawn of the Cybertronian race has it been my honor and my duty to protect those who are worthy of leading us, and I will not desert my post._

_And so did Hot Rod despair, for he knew Omega’s will to be unchangeable. But still he argued, for it was not in his nature to abandon any enterprise he dedicated himself to, nor would he disappoint those who had elected to follow him. For hours his followers watched as their young leader’s efforts failed to move Omega. And at last Hot Rod was forced to concede defeat, and great was his rage then, for there was nothing his proud spark hated more than feeling he had failed his people._

_But as all seemed lost, a group of Decepticons approached Hot Rod and begged for a conference. And the young Autobot was intrigued and acquiesced, though his companions were suspicious. But Hot Rod said unto them: Are we not all Cybertronians? The war is over, and I will not turn my back on my brothers. And so he bid the Decepticons speak._

_Forth as their spokesmech came Swindle, ill reputed even among his own army. And Drift’s spark tightened in fear, and he drew Hot Rod aside._

_There are men of honor among the Decepticons, said he. Men whose company I miss and who I would gladly embrace as brothers now that we are at peace. But I warn you, this Swindle is not one of them, nor would I trust any who allow him to speak in their name. I beg you, do not listen to his poisonous speech, but send him away._

_But Hot Rod, in the naiveté of his youth, did not heed his companion’s advice._

_Men of honor there are indeed in the Decepticon army, he said, and among them there are certainly those who would have given me similar warning against Deadlock. Through you, I have learned the value of second chances. So do not ask me to deny someone an opportunity of redemption, Drift. For I will do no such thing, unless the person asking me for that opportunity be Megatron himself, or one of his closest commanders. Them alone will I hold to be past any hope of change. To any other Decepticon, Sweetspark, I shall offer the same courtesy we offered you._

_Thus was Swindle allowed to speak, and his speech was filled with flattery. And among praises for Hot Rod’s kindness and wisdom, he suggested that Autobots and Decepticons work together to build a new spaceship. And the Autobots hesitated, for the notion of working with those who had so long been their enemies filled them with trepidation._

_But Hot Rod addressed them passionately. The war would not truly be over while they clang to old fashioned notions about the two sides, he declared. It was time for all Cybertronians to cast aside their hatred and work together, till all are one._

_Thus were the Autobots convinced, and work on the new spaceship was begun. And Swindle called Rodimus peace-bringer and founder of a new era, and named him Rodimus Prime. And on hearing that name, the young bot’s brash spark grew proud, and he yearned to prove himself worthy of the title. Hard did he work his group over the following days, yet none worked harder than him._

_But Ultra Magnus, the law enforcer, arrived on Earth, for it was his duty to investigate Ironhide’s demise. And upon hearing of Hot Rod’s departure from the base, he was angered and set forth to bring him and his companions back. And with him went Bumblebee, to act as peacekeeper. But on locating Hot Rod and seeing the Decepticons on his group, the two Autobots were horrified. And Ultra Magnus proclaimed Hot Rod a traitor and attempted to arrest him, but Bumblebee protested. His brother was naïve and easily flattered, but he was no traitor. His spark was kind, and his heroism had been proved a thousand times over during the war. And Hot Rod, incensed at the intrusion on his camp, and ashamed to see his older brother act as his protector, defended his decision and repeated his fierce speech._

_But just as he spoke in Swindle’s defense, the treacherous conmech revealed his true colors. Taking advantage of the Autobots’ distraction, he and his associates stole the hard-built ship and flew away._

_And great was Hot Rod’s despair, for there were no resources to build a second spaceship, and he had pledged his honor to this enterprise. And as Ultra Magnus chastised him, he stood frozen in horror, contemplating his mistakes. His arrogance in ignoring Drift’s advice, the ease with which he had allowed himself to be seduced by empty compliments, his hubris in accepting the title of Prime. And he thought of the people he had failed, and of his companions, doomed to stay on Earth due to his errors, and he knew in his spark that he must find a way to set things right._

_And thus, in his moment of greatest despair, the image of the Matrix suddenly came to him, for always had the precious artifact rescued Cybertronians from distress, and its loss had marked the beginning of the great sorrows that had recently come to the Autobots. And Hot Rod knew that if he rescued the artifact from the Decepticons, all would be put to right. His father would surely return upon sensing the Matrix’s presence, and once Optimus Prime recovered his full power, all troubles would surely be solved._

_And as that thought struck him, his optics fell on the small individual ship belonging to Ultra Magnus, and he knew what he must do. There would be no time for explanations, nor would the others allow his departure if they knew his purpose. And so, he quickly stole the ship and set forth to the Decepticon base. And great was his sorrow, for he knew that his companions would misunderstand his intentions and curse him for a traitor and a coward. But deep in his spark, Hot Rod felt that he would deserve such titles if his mission failed. And so he chose not to dwell on melancholic thoughts about his friends, but to focus on gathering his courage for the task ahead of him._


	3. Chapter 3

It was easier than it should have been.

No, really. With all the stupid stunts Hot Rod was always pulling, he was well aware that having unbelievable luck was one of the main reasons why he was still alive. Perhaps irresponsibly, he had started to count on that luck whenever he made a plan, and this time had been no exception. But _damn_. The universe must be conspiring to help him to rescue the Matrix, or something, because things were going _too_ well even by his standards.

For starters, everything in Ultra Magnus’s little ship was unlocked, and the equipment Hot Rod found while searching through the cabinets was more advanced than he had expected of a vessel that size. It took him a few tries to figure out the tracking system, but soon enough he had a course plotted to the Decepticon base, currently located on an asteroid. Then he found the arsenal of guns and realized that, as good as they were, the most remarkable thing about the entire collection was the safe where Magnus kept them. It was made from an extremely resistant osmium alloy, which was precisely what Hot Rod needed. Working as quickly as possible, he shoved the weapons on a secret compartment and used the material of the safe to craft himself a rudimentary armor.

Then there had been nothing to do but wait. Reaching the Decepticons took two rather boring days, but once he reached his destination there was plenty of action to make up for it. He wasted no time on words, and simply launched his ship against the base at full speed.

His enemies’ response was the expected one. They shot his ship down, and as he saw their missiles approaching Hot Rod silently prayed his calculations had been correct.

They had. He came online amidst debris, and saw the Decepticons approaching to loot it. Quickly, he hid. The armor had kept him alive during the explosion, but was now heavily damaged and impairing his movements, so he discarded it and grabbed one of the guns he'd hidden. Then he waited for the best moment, sneaked behind his enemies to the door they’d left open, and slammed it after him.

This was when he started to feel a bit freaked out. His equipment had told him there were about two hundred people inside the base, but the corridors he ran through were empty. Even though his approach must certainly have triggered some alarm, no one seemed concerned with guarding the entrances. What was happening? Was he walking into a trap? Or had Megatron’s death really left the Decepticons _that_  directionless? Hot Rod might have been less surprised at this state of events if he was pulling the same move _right after_ the cons had lost their leader, but… It had been two years. They’d had plenty of time to restructure. Where was Starscream?!? Wasn’t he their leader now? With all of the assassination attempts he’d sprung on Megatron through the millennia, you’d think he had some sort of leadership plan to implement in case he was ever successful.  And yet, here was his main base, apparently abandoned. What was going on?

Hot Rod’s thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the strange sensation that someone was calling him. He hadn’t heard a thing, but he somehow felt that someone- a friend- was urging him to approach. A strange sense of warmth filled his chest, right down to his spark, and it seemed to grow stronger or weaker depending on the path he took. His optics went wide. Could… Could this be the Matrix?

His father had always been secretive about the powers of the Matrix, but Hot Rod knew the artifact was capable of _some_ form of communication. Was it possible for it to communicate with someone it wasn’t connected to, though? Could it sense that its chosen Prime’s son was nearby, and reach out to him for help? There was no other explanation Hot Rod could think of, so he decided to follow the warm feeling. As he went ever deeper into the base, he continued to be surprised at the complete absence of guards.

The guiding warmth reached a peak right before Hot Rod arrived at an arched opening on the wall, and he braced himself for trouble. That was it. The Matrix was in that room, and no matter what troubles the Decepticons were going through, surely they wouldn’t have left it completely defenseless. Tensing up, he raised his gun and sneaked in.

It was a throne room. Starscream sat alone, covered in heavy armor and staring intensely at the Matrix, which was imprisoned on a chain around his neck. Lost in contemplation of his treasure, Starscream seemed completely oblivious to the presence of an intruder, and there was still no sign of any guards.

Cautiously, still fearful of a trap, Hot Rod crept into the room and pointed his gun at Starscream.

“Drop the Matrix.”

Starscream slowly looked up at him. Hot Rod expected a scene. He expected for Starscream to shout for the guards, to pull a concealed weapon out of somewhere, or even to launch on a dramatic speech shaming the Autobot for invading his quarters. In short, he expected some kind of drama worthy of Starscream.

But nothing of the sort happened. The new Decepticon commander just kept sitting there, immerse in an apathy so unlike him as to be unsettling. A word Hot Rod had seen on Earth movies came to his mind: zombie. That was what Starscream was acting like. Was… Was this the Matrix’s doing? Was this how it protected itself from undesirable guardians?

“Don’t be an idiot,” Starscream said at last, barely deigning to look Hot Rod’s way.  “I’m the leader of the Decepticons. I’ve faced so many assassination attempts, I am impenetrably armored. You can’t possibly hurt me.”

Hot Rod smirked.

“Oh, I’m not going to shoot you. I’m going to shoot the Matrix.”

 _That_ finally got a reaction. Starscream’s optics went wide, and there was a trace of panic in his voice.

“You wouldn’t. That’s crazy!”

“You don’t know me very well,” replied Hot Rod. And then, without further ado, he shot the Matrix.

He wouldn’t have been able to explain how he’d formulated that plan. He hadn’t known if it would have any effect, or what that effect could be. He was fairly certain his shot wouldn’t damage the Matrix, but it might very well have caused the whole asteroid to explode. In a split second, he had made the decision that it was worth the risk. He was here to remove the Matrix from Decepticon control, no matter the cost.

Luck favored him again. His wild plan worked. The second the shot hit the Matrix, Starscream cried out in pain and fell unconscious on the floor. Somehow, his cry _still_ failed to attract any guards, and Hot Rod was free to remove his necklace.

The Matrix shone invitingly, seeming to urge him to approach. Warmth, pleasant and comforting, spread through his entire being the second his servos touched the ancient artifact. For a second, a small part of his mind alerted him that he was in danger of falling prey to the same apathetic trance as Starscream. There was _something_ about the Matrix, something that he couldn’t define, but that held him entranced. It didn’t seem to affect any of his regular senses. Rather, it transcended them all, affecting the entirety of his being to the very core of his spark. Holding the Matrix felt _right_. It was as simple as that.

A noise in the distance brought him back to reality, which proved he was in no danger of ending up like Starscream. The Matrix had no intention of holding him hostage, and had simply wished to express how glad it was to see him. Or, at least, that was what he believed the sensations it was causing him meant. He was feeling very confused by the Matrix’s actions, but there was no time to think about it now. Quickly, he put on the necklace and ran outside the base, in search of a ship he could steal.

The lack of guards was starting to freak him out again. Noticing that there was no sign of spaceships on the direction he was facing, he tried to turn, only for his back to collide with something very solid that wasn’t there seconds ago.

“Well, well, well. Look what we have here,” said a voice out of his deepest nightmares.

Hot Rod felt cold from terror. No, no it couldn’t be. Megatron was dead. He was _dead_ , everyone knew it, he was dead and the war was over, this had to be a hallucination…

“Surprised, Rodimus?” Megatron asked, still standing behind him. “So am I. I’d ask to what I owe the pleasure of your visit, but it’s pretty obvious.”

Hot Rod’s hand jumped instinctively to the Matrix. This was no time to give in to terror. He had a mission to fulfill, and no matter how terrified he was, he could not allow Megatron to retake the Matrix.

Finding himself incapable of thinking straight, and praying that his luck hadn’t _completely_ abandoned him, he turned to face the monster and tremulously brandished the Matrix at him.

“Stay back!”

Megatron chuckled, and his complete lack of fear at being threatened with the Matrix was more terrifying than anything he could have said.

“Put down the bauble, boy. I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to talk.”

That startled Hot Rod for a moment, before he realized it could only be a trap.

“I have nothing to say to you,” he said, trying to slowly sneak away. Megatron stepped closer, forcing him to back against a wall.

“Really? You seemed so surprised to see me that I thought you’d at least want to ask me how I survived.”

“A CR chamber, I suppose. Since you're obviously back, it doesn't matter how it happened. But…” terrified as he was, Hot Rod couldn’t let such a perfect chance to taunt an enemy pass by, “I _was_ curious about the sorry state of your troops. Are the Decepticons truly so weak that they completely fall apart without you?”

Megatron frowned in anger, and Hot Rod hated himself for shuddering.

“That was Starscream’s fault, and he _will_ be paying for it.  Although I suppose that thing in your hand is also to blame. If you’re afraid I’ve come to take it back, you may relax. I took it because at the time it seemed a good way to weaken your father, but it’s proved to be far more trouble than it’s worth.”

“Well, if you don’t want the Matrix around, that’s a problem I can solve for you real easily,” stammered Hot Rod. “Just lend me a ship and you’ll never see it on a Decepticon base again.”

Megatron’s frown diminished slightly, and something sarcastic gleamed in his optics.

“Why so eager to leave, Rodimus? I told you, I only want to talk. You know, I’m not really supposed to be here. The medics say I should stay in berth for another week or so, but when I heard that one lone Autobot had successfully invaded the base, I had to come see it, because I thought there was only one person who could ever be that bold.” Megatron smiled. “I was wrong, but I’m not really surprised. It seems you truly are your father’s son, and that makes me even more curious to get to know you.”

“Even more?” Hot Rod asked with a frown. Why would Megatron have had any reason to be interested in him before today?

“Of course. I’ve caught glimpses of you and your brother during several battles, but this is the first time I properly meet you. I have met Bumblebee, technically, but he was only a baby at the time. I’ve often wondered about what Optimus’ children were growing up to be like. I’m glad to see that at least one has taken after him.”

Hot Rod didn’t know how to take that. Why was his father’s worst enemy talking as if they were old friends? When had he met Bee?!? He stayed silent while he tried to process those questions, so Megatron proceeded.

“Tell me, how is your father? Has he found the Autobots a new home yet, or is he still lurking on that little blue planet, trying to protect his pet organics from my army?”

Hot Rod scoffed.

“Are you trying to get me to tell you where the current Autobot main base is located? How stupid do you think I am?”

Megatron laughed.

“Smart kid. It was worth a try. But surely there would be no harm in you answering my first question. How is your father?”

“What do _you_ care?”

Something that seemed strangely like sadness gleamed for a moment in the threatening red optics.

“Your father and I know each other well, Rodimus. Surely you know about his Senate speech…”

“Yeah, I know he once called you ‘friend’ when you barely knew each other, because you wrote some stuff he really liked. But then you betrayed all of the good principles on your book and became the dictator you used to warn people about, so…”

“And that’s all you know about me. I see.”

Megatron fell into contemplative silence, and Hot Rod took the opportunity to look for a breach through which he could escape. Before he could move, however, Megatron spoke again.

“This was quite a feat you pulled today, young man. You’re certainly a brave one, and you seem really bright as well.”

Hot Rod hoped it didn’t show, but the longer… whatever was happening here went on, the more nervous he got. Megatron’s behavior made no sense! Why was he pretending to be interested in his nemesis’s family?!? Why was he talking to Hot Rod in a tone that could almost be described as fond?!? He must be laying some sort of trap, and Hot Rod was deeply unsettled by his own inability to understand where the entire situation was going. He wanted to say something to put an end to whatever game Megatron was playing, and either escape or turn the situation into a proper fight, but he felt as if his brain was frozen.

“But,” continued Megatron, “there is something a bit troubling that I couldn’t help noticing. Rodimus… Why do you keep flinching every time I say your name?”

Hot Rod’s optics widened. Had he been flinching? He hadn’t noticed, but he supposed it made sense for him to be, as the repeated use of his full name _was_ making him uncomfortable. For one, “Rodimus” was what his _family_ called him, and Megatron had no right to use that name.

And then there was the fact that after his failures on Earth, and the whole “Rodimus Prime” fiasco, he had never felt less worthy of his name.

“I heard a while ago that you were going by something else…” Megatron proceeded, ignoring his lack of response, “ ‘Hot Rod’, was it not?” Megatron laughed, slightly mockingly. “A bit over the top for my taste, but I suppose it’s suitable for an extroverted, adventurous young man like yourself.”

“ ‘A bit over the top?’” Hot Rod asked sarcastically, proud of himself for finally thinking of an insult to throw back. “Brave words for a man who has a son named Overlord.”

All hints of humor disappeared from Megatron’s face, and his voice returned to its characteristic threatening tone.

“Both my children were already named when I adopted them, just as your brother was when your father found him. But you, Rodimus…” Megatron’s voice softened again. “Optimus pretty much named you after himself, didn’t he? And it’s a nice name. So when I heard about ‘Hot Rod’, I thought it was just a youthful nickname, that perhaps your friends thought ‘Rodimus’ was too serious…”

His head was spinning. _Why_ had Megatron thought so much about him?!?

“But you seem to almost have an aversion to the name, and seeing as it’s so reminiscent of your father’s, and that you are here alone on what is frankly a suicidal mission that I am sure he didn’t approve… I have to ask, Rodimus… Is everything alright between the two of you?”

“What?!?”

“Because,” Megatron continued, his voice almost gentle, “as I was saying, you’re a really resourceful soldier, and we could use someone like you. So if you’re having troubles at home…”

It wasn't common for Hot Rod to find himself speechless, but he had _no idea_ how to reply to that. He had never felt so offended in his life, but at the same time the entire situation was so _absurd_ that it felt slightly unreal. Anger burned hot inside of him as he searched for a way to express his indignation, and he was certain he was about to flame.

“What the **frag**?!?” He asked at last. Not his finest come back, but for once he wasn’t ashamed of not being able to think of anything better. “I don’t know what sick game you’re playing, Megatron, but…”

“There is no game. You’re a bright, courageous young man who any army would be lucky to have, and I have reason to believe you’re unhappy with your current position. Why are you so surprised that I’d try to recruit you?”

“ ‘Unhappy with my current position?’ What the frag do you think picking sides in this war is about?!? I’m aware that many of your soldiers were originally good people who went to you out of desperation and then stayed out of fear of the DJD, but that was four million years ago! No one with any decency would join you today! You’re a genocidal dictator who…”

Megatron’s optics burned with anger and he stepped towards Hot Rod, who couldn’t help shrinking away in fear.

“Spare me the sanctimonious speeches, boy! You know _nothing_ about how things were four million years ago! Yes, my first soldiers came to me out of desperation, and you know why? Because your father and most of his friends were terrifying them, locking them up for no reason, enforcing abusive laws that condemned them to torture and death just for _existing_.”

“My father rescued you when that happened to you!”

Megatron laughed, a cruel sound without any humor to it.

“Oh, sure, _that_ part he told you. Did he also tell you about the countless people who were in the exact same position as I was, but who he ignored because they didn’t happen to be carrying pacifist social manifests with them? I recognize that Orion Pax saved my life that day, I am _thankful_ to him for that, but I have no illusions about what would have happened to me if he hadn’t come across my draft of _Towards Peace_. A Tarnian who carries a pacifist text written in his own hand may cause a conscious police captain to decide to take a closer look at the allegation that he assaulted a guard on a bar. But a Tarnian who’s not carrying a well written document that explicitly states he is anti-violence? That story doesn’t end that well, kid.”

“My father made mistakes,” said Hot Rod, grinding his teeth in anger “but he’s regretted them and spent the four million years since then trying to make amends. And so have his friends. You did the opposite. You started out from a fair position, but has grown more petty and violent each day since you first took power. You keep using what was done to you ages ago as an excuse to do the same thing to others, while trying to make people still see you as the victim! Your motto is literally ‘peace through tyranny’! You committed countless genocides, force new recruits to carve their Decepticon badges out of their own _spark casings_ …”

“How do you know about that?” Megatron asked, surprised, but Hot Rod ignored him.

“… and when misguided well-intentioned people join you, realize what you are, and try to leave, you have your son and his friends hunt them down for sport. Whatever happened before this war began, you’ve become a monster and the Autobots have become heroes, and I’m _disgusted_ that you thought I could _ever_ consider joining you!”

The words had poured out of him in an impulse, and he hadn’t planned for the speech to end. He was still hot from anger- really, he was surprised he hadn’t flamed. His temperature felt high enough for it to happen- but he was also slightly nervous about how Megatron would respond. Would he start shouting back, or would he just shoot him?

Before he had a chance to do either, a blinding blue light suddenly disorientated them both. Recovering, Hot Rod looked down at his chest and realized it was coming from the Matrix. The warmth he had felt before was back, seeming to merge with the warmth of his own body, and he stood mesmerized.

Until he heard Megatron’s voice.

“Oh. I see. Optimus would be proud, I suppose.”

Hot Rod felt rather than saw Megatron raise his cannon arm. Reacting fast, he dashed through an opening in Megatron’s guard and began to run away. He removed the necklace, so he could hold the Matrix in a way that would put it inside his altmode when he transformed.

“I’m sorry, kid,” he heard Megatron’s voice say from a short distance behind him. “But I really can’t allow you to merge with this thing. The Decepticon cause wouldn’t survive having to face two Primes at once.”

And then, before Hot Rod had time to go to speedster mode, Megatron’s shot hit him. He felt a moment of searing, mind blowing pain, and then everything went dark.

 

* * *

 

There was warmth. It felt familiar, but he couldn’t identify it. It seemed to be spreading, consuming every inch of him, growing ever more pleasant. Whatever was happening just felt _right_. It was his smoothest transformation and his best overload all rounded up in one, and a hundred times more intense than either.

His optics came online, weakly, just enough for him to recognize the source of those wonderful sensations.

The Matrix. It was stuck to his frame, and he didn’t question it, or wonder where he was, or how he had ended up in his present situation. The Matrix was all that mattered. It’s delicate light pulsated gently, soothing him back to recharge, and he gladly surrendered to unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Megs, you really shouldn't go around shooting people.  
> Especially if you used to date their father and still hope to get back together.  
> And even more especially if their approximate age indicates they were born about a gestation period after you slept with their father.
> 
> Also, writing this chapter made me realize I still ship Roddy with the Matrix more than with anyone else. He just seems so happy when he describes merging with it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short transitional chapter this time. I find this part of canon to be a bit of a mess, to be honest, but Hot Rod's discovery of the changes in Cybertron had to be done. Next chapter will feature the reunion between Hot Rod and OP, and that's something I'm really looking forward to writing, as they'll talk about Megatron.

_Excerpt from Vector Sigma Archive:_

_And so it was that Hot Rod was slain by Megatron. But the Matrix, in its kindness, wisdom, and power, brought its rescuer back to life. But the ordeal took a toll on the young Autobot, and so he remained unconscious for a long time as his inert form drifted aimlessly through space._

_But at last he came to himself, and lo! He had fallen on an unknown planet, and was the captive of an unknown organic race. And he listened to his captors, so that he could better evaluate his situation. And great was his astonishment, for the strangers seemed to speak of another Cybertronian residing somewhere in this strange, hostile planet. And Hot Rod was anxious to learn more of this compatriot, so that he could know if he was friend or foe._

_But his plans were interrupted, for the organic lifeforms revealed their plan to separate him from the Matrix so they could use the artifact to restart his long dead spaceship. And as they seemed hostile and unwilling to compromise on a mutually beneficial solution, Hot Rod decided to flee. And so he waited for their captain to approach him, and blasted him with The Matrix, leaving him stunned. And in the ensuing confusion, Hot Rod made his escape._

_And so it was that he found himself driving through a strange planet, til rain began to fall, and he realized it was corrosive. Dashing for cover in a cave, the young Autobot found himself cornered by an organic monster. And he grasped at the Matrix, for it was his only defense against such an enemy. But to his amazement, the beast was driven away by an unexpected apparition. And great was Hot Rod’s astonishment when his rescuer came into the light, for he recognized Wheelie, who had been friends with his father, and disappeared when Hot Rod was but a sparkling._

_But larger than his astonishment was his joy, for Wheelie had long been believed to be lost. And Hot Rod embraced him and asked him to tell the tale of his adventures. But in that he was disappointed, for Wheelie was amnesiac, and could not remember Optimus Prime, Cybertron, or the war. And yet something in him seemed to recognize Hot Rod as a friend, for he was kind and hospitable to the young man who was to him but a stranger._

_And thus Hot Rod settled on Wheelie’s dwelling, so that he could rest. But later that night, an assassin from his previous captors came for him. And though he was a formidable adversary, he underestimated the two Cybertronians, and soon found himself defeated. But Hot Rod was merciful, and he had need of information. And so he conducted a short investigation, and learned his captive’s name was Garnak, and that Garnak was weary of his masters and continued to obey them only for lack of option._

_And so did Hot Rod learn that the leader of the organics was a cruel man, whose ruthlessness had cost him the loyalty of his assassin. And though Swindle weighed heavily on Hot Rod’s mind and made him wary of trusting in others, he decided Garnak’s pain was genuine. And so he proposed a truce, and made a plan with his new ally to gain freedom for both of them._

_But when Garnak, unused to the bonds of friendship, suggested leaving Wheelie behind, Hot Rod was incensed. And his mind went to his friends on Earth, and he firmly told Garnak he had learned his lesson and would never leave any friends behind again._

_And thus, with the help of his two unexpected allies, did Hot Rod steal his new enemy’s broken spaceship, and restored it with the power of the Matrix. But as he was new to the powers of a Prime, exhaustion claimed him as soon as the ship took flight, and he went offline for several days._

_And though he was completely recovered when he woke, his happiness did not last long, for as he looked through the spaceship’s window, he realized he had made yet another mistake. For as Garnak was ignorant of all matters Cybertronian, he had entrusted the navigation to Wheelie, confident that the mechanical being would take them to a safe space among allies._

_And as Wheelie had no memories of the past four million years, but was beginning to recover some of his earlier ones, he drove the spaceship to Cybertron, for he did not know of the tragedy that had befallen his home._

_And so was Hot Rod terrified, for he had come online too late to prevent their landing. And he tried to convey to Wheelie why it would be dangerous to open the doors, but Wheelie would not heed him. And as Wheelie managed to open the ship door, Hot Rod prepared for a fight, but was instead greeted by a vision that brought him great confusion._

_For standing in front of the open door was Ironhide, who he had left dead on Earth. And with him was Sunstreaker, who had long ago betrayed the Autobot cause and was also believed to be dead. And so did Hot Rod once again despair, for what other explanation could there be for the presence of these ghosts, but that he was dead himself? And in his anger at his errors on Earth, he wondered if he had died from Megatron’s shot, and been sent to the place reserved for those whose deaths had been particularly senseless._

_But Ironhide sensed his distress and put him at ease, by telling the tale of how he had been miraculously returned to life by Alpha Trion. And joyous was the ending of his tale, for Cybertron had been freed from the monsters that rendered it uninhabitable._

_But before Hot Rod had time to rejoice, he discovered his home planet had not yet been fully won back. For Galvatron and his army had reappeared, and were intent on seizing it. And Ironhide said the situation was hopeless, but Hot Rod welcomed him and Sunstreaker into the ship and set a course for Earth. For he was certain that there was no evil in this universe that his father, once reunited with the Matrix, would not be able to slain._


	5. Chapter 5

Hot Rod felt extremely nervous about his return to Earth. He had lost track of time during his adventures and wasn’t sure how long he’d stayed away, although Ironhide assured him it couldn’t have been more than a few weeks. What had happened during that time? Was his father still a volunteer prisoner of the humans, or had he seen sense? If so, had he managed to escape without any trouble? Was everyone still alive? Did all of his friends hate him? Had his father learned of how he'd been conned, and would he be disappointed?

As they approached the base, Hot Rod saw most of the Autobots running out of it to stare nervously at the ship, wondering who might be piloting it. He felt his spark glow happily at the sight of Bumblebee, Drift, Ratchet, and so many others, but he was worried to see there was no sign of his father.

The ship landed, and the Autobots surrounded it, ready for the possibility of a battle. When the doors opened and the small crew was revealed, their chins dropped and many of them gasped. There was a deep admiration in their optics, and Hot Rod cursed at himself. Here he was, ready to admit his mistakes and make amends, and he’d failed to account for the astounding impression he’d make descending from the skies with the Matrix on his chest, accompanied by three resurrected men and one alien! He must be looking heroic and mysterious, which was ironic. Being seen that way had always been one of his biggest dreams, and now he had achieved it by accident at a moment in which he did not feel worthy of it at all. It made him feee like a fraud.

“Roddy!” Drift shouted, running to him as soon as he stepped out of the ship. He stopped half a step from him, hesitantly, as if uncertain if he was allowed to hug the bearer of the Matrix. Hot Rod pulled him close, and allowed himself a moment to relax into his partner’s embrace.

“I thought you were dead,” Drift whispered against his audio.

“I was,” Hot Rod muttered back. Drift pulled away and cast him a frightened look.

“I’ll tell you later.”

Drift nodded and stepped aside, revealing that Bumblebee was standing behind him, waiting for a chance to speak to his brother. The atmosphere grew tense when their optics met, and it was instantly clear there would be no relieved hugs there.

“How…” Bumblebee began, but Hot Rod’s anxiety was tormenting him too much. Before he could even think about explaining his adventures to anyone, there was something he had to know.

“Bumblebee, where is Father?”

Before Bumblebee could reply, several Autobots surrounded them, competing for the job of taking Hot Rod to his father. Apparently Optimus Prime had returned to the base, and Hot Rod sighed in relief. He followed his many guides, noticing that Bumblebee chose to stay behind.

The Autobots took him to a door, and, at a look from him, vanished back down the corridor, giving him privacy. He clenched his fists and took a moment to attempt to calm himself down before he knocked.

“Come in,” said his father’s voice from inside. Hot Rod opened the door and stepped into the office.

Optimus stared at him for a couple of seconds, seeming to not believe his optics.

“… Roddy?” he asked in a small voice that did not suit him at all.

“Hi, Dad.”

Letting out a short laugh of relief, Optimus Prime ran to hug his son.  This time, however, Hot Rod was too nervous to enjoy the hug.

At last, his father let go of him and quickly looked him over in search of injuries, as he used to do when Hot Rod was a child.

“Are you alright?!?”

“I am. Father, there’s a lot we need to talk about, I…”

“There is,” Optimus agreed. “But before you say anything, there is something that you need to know. We have Megatron secure on a cell downstairs.”

“What?!?!?”

 At the sound of Megatron’s name, panic took hold of Hot Rod. His optics lost focus, and he found it hard to concentrate on his father’s words.

“Roddy, listen to me. It’s alright. He’s locked up, do you understand me? He can’t hurt you again. You’re safe.”

His father guided him to a chair, and went to pour him a calming doses of energon.

“How?” Hot Rod muttered, accepting the drink. “When did he…”

“He came here right after he shot you," his father explained, his voice shaking with rage. Hot Rod looked questioningly at him, and he nodded. “Yes, he confessed to that when we interrogated him. He said you were dead. I… I had to be physically restrained when I heard. I tried to kill him.”

That rendered Hot Rod speechless. Sure, his father had tried to kill Megatron many times before, but all of them had been in battle. He knew how abhorrent the mere idea of killing a defenseless prisoner was to his father, and he was deeply moved that the news of his death had driven him to that point. Although, to be sure, he was also glad the others had prevented him. Hot Rod wanted Megatron dead, but via a legal execution, which he was certain was what the others were working on.

“I’m here, father,” he said, soothingly, once he found his voice. “The Matrix saved me.”

“So I see,” Optimus said with a smile. Fearing that he might say something complimentary about his bond with the Matrix, Hot Rod quickly went on.

“And speaking of the Matrix, there is something… There’re actually several things I need to say. First of all…” he forced himself to look his father into the optics, “I’m sorry. I’ve been a complete idiot. I abandoned you in a time of need, I was a jerk to Bumblebee, I didn’t listen to Drift when he warned me about Swindle, I let myself be seduced by blatant fake flattery, I stole and crashed Ultra Magnus’ ship, I…” his hand touched the Autobot badge on his chest, “I’m a shame to this symbol, and I am so sorry.”

“Ro…”

“Please, father, let me finish. I want you to know that I’m willing to do whatever it takes to amend for all that I did. For starters, I brought you back this.”

He rose from his chair, removed the Matrix from his chest, and handed it over. His father hesitated for half a second before reaching out and taking it back.

“Are you certain it wouldn’t prefer to stay with you?”

“What?!? No, of course not! It only attached itself to me because I was its ticket back to you!”

“I’m sure there was more than that,” Optimus replied, as he placed the Matrix back on his own chest. They paused the conversation and waited for it to finish reattaching it. Once it was done, Optimus sighed and returned to his seat, gesturing for Hot Rod to do the same.

“Now, son… There is a lot I want to tell you in reply to all that you just said. But I think it would be better if you told me the full story of your adventures before I do.”

Hot Rod acquiesced. Staring at the floor, he told the full tale. His father gripped at the arms of his chair while Hot Rod spoke of his confrontation of Megatron, let out gasps of joy when he heard of his dead friends being returned to life, and actually laughed with pure relief when he learned that Cybertron was once again inhabitable. But when Hot Rod spoke of Galvatron, he rose from his seat in alarm.

“Magnus,” he said, grabbing his communicator, “give Omega Supreme instructions to begin preparations to leave Earth, and let everyone know to prepare for battle. I assume that Ironhide will have told you by now. I’ll be there shortly.”

He ended the message, and Hot Rod stood up.

“You’re busy, I should go…”’

“Sit down, son. We need to have a very serious talk, and I won’t allow _anything_ to get in its way.”

Hot Rod obeyed, feeling nervous. There was something strange in his father’s tone that he couldn’t quite decipher.

“Rodimus,” his father began, staring earnestly at him, “you’re being too hard on yourself. You’ve always had a habit of doing that that, but I feel that it’s getting worse of lately, and I’m worried. And I want to apologize to you, because I know that’s in great part my fault. I know it can’t have been easy for you and your brother to grow up as children of a Prime. People, even well intentioned ones, have been putting all sorts of pressure on the two of you to be perfect little heroes since you were children, and I did what I could to shield you from that, but it’s clear I failed. I know that when you think of Bumblebee you fixate on all the ways in which you two are different, and he does the same to you, but I hope that one day you’ll realize how similar you two actually are. You’re both heroic, kind, smart, and put the needs of the group ahead of everything else.”

Hot Rod opened his mouth to protest, but stopped at a gesture from his father.

“Don’t try to argue with me. You _are_ all of those things, and I’m so proud of both of you. But you’re also insecure. Extremely insecure. And I feel guilty for that, for both of you, but you in particular. Don’t think I don’t know why you don’t use your full name. I’m sorry. I liked the sound of it so much that it never occurred to me it might be another factor adding to the pressure on you. But I want you to know that if you like the name, which I think you do…”

“Of course I do,” Hot Rod blurted out. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t have fallen for Swindle’s stupid con.”

His father offered him a gentle smile.

“I’m not saying you didn’t make mistakes, Rodimus. But this is part of my point. You need to stop demanding perfection out of yourself. You just told me an incredible story, and you painted all of it as a series of accidents for which you could claim no credit, even though it’s the exact sort of story you would have spent decades reenacting during playtime if I’d told it to you when you were a sparkling. You’d have been so envious of the protagonist, and hope so hard that you’d one day grow up to be like that, and…”

“I must have told it wrong!” Hot Rod protested. “I didn’t do anything that great, Dad, really. I see how it looks impressive from the outside, but the Decepticons I tricked were so weakened by two years of Starscream’s rule, and…”

“These things _always_ feel less impressive from inside. Trust me, I can relate. It happens to me all the time. For example, I once fell on a gigantic hole during a crucial battle, and only survived because the Matrix happened to be there. And people have literally composed epic songs about it.”

“Dad, that was when you _became a Prime_.”

“And what would you call your confrontation with Megatron?”

“What?!?”

He’d heard that wrong, right? His father couldn’t mean…

“The Matrix joined with you. And you showed the Signs of Primacy before it did, didn’t you? You were nauseous, and… I didn’t heard that part directly, they’d convinced me to stay out of his cell by then, but Megatron sent me word that your eyes were shining in the same hue as the Matrix. Even he recognized you as a Prime in that moment.”

“I’m _not_ a Prime!”

“Not right now. But you were for some time during these past weeks, and you have the potential to be one again someday. I’m certain you even have the right to use the title if you want to, I certainly wouldn’t obj…”

Hot Rod's patience was starting to run thin.

“Dad, with all due respect, the last time I was stupid enough to go by ‘Rodimus Prime’, I…”

“Was deceived by an expert conman, made a few mistakes, but realized you were wrong and are now using that experience to mature as a person. But I’m not saying you have to become a Prime, so relax. All I’m saying is that if you try to imagine this exact story happening to anyone else but you, you may realize how much you did during it. You’ve always pulled some impressive stunts, but this odyssey you just returned from… Rodimus, I’ve never been prouder of you, and that’s saying a lot. I know it’s been a long time since you were a sparkling, so please don’t take this the wrong way, but… Hearing this story made me _feel_ like my little boy grew up. Parents sometimes take a while to stop seeing their children as sparklings, but today I look at you and I see a grown man. One who I am very lucky to be able to call my son.”

It had been a while since they’d had such an emotional talk, so Hot Rod found himself feeling embarrassed. He didn’t reply, but went deep in thought, and tried to follow his father’s suggestion and look at his own adventures through an outside perspective. It was a long time before he finally looked back at his father.

“I’m not a Prime,” he repeated. Optimus’s mouthplate moved indicating he was about to speak, but Rodimus interrupted him with his signature cocky smile. “At least not yet. With the war over and Megs locked up, though, I’ll have plenty of free time in which to learn the ins and outs of it, if you ever want a vacation. But for now, I think I’ll stick with asking my friends to call me ‘Rodimus.’”

Optimus laughed.

“It’s good to have you back, son.”

Rodimus smiled.

“Thank you for the pep talk, Dad, I needed it. Well, I think we should go rejoin everyone. Galvatron’s hold on Cybertron isn’t getting any weaker.”

“Wait,” said his father, and his voice sounded strange once more. “There’s one more thing we need to discuss, Rodimus.”

“Alright,” said the young Autobot, hesitantly returning to his seat. “Is everything alright, Dad? You’re kinda freaking me out a bit. Is this about Magnus’ ship? Because I promise I”ll buy…”

“It has nothing to do with Magnus, nor with anything that you did wrong. This is about something that _I_ did.”

“What? Ok, I take it back, _now_ you’re kinda freaking me out a bit.”

“I just referred to you as a grown man,” Optimus continued, as if the interruption hadn’t happened, “and there’s something that I promised myself, ages ago, that I would tell, or rather, something I’d confess to you on the day I first thought of you that way.”

“Confess? Dad, what could you possibly have to…”

“Rodimus, please. Please, let me talk, and try to let me get to the end before you say anything, ok?”

“I’ll try…”

“Good.”

Optimus paused, unsure of how to begin, and Rodimus anxiously clenched his hands in fists again. What could possibly be bad enough to cause his father to hesitate so much?

“Rodimus, there’s no easy way to say this. You’re not adopted. I carried you.”

The sentence was so absurd that it took Rodimus a moment to process it, and when he did he was certain he’d heard it wrong.

“What?”

There was no emotion in the question. There was not even shock. He felt as if he was having a very strange dream.

“The war had just begun,” Optimus said, in the nervous tone of someone who’d spent a long time practicing a difficult speech they’d still rather not give, “and I was still just beginning to adjust to being Prime. When Ratchet told me I was sparked, I…”

“You carried me while you were Prime?!?”

The horror of the potential implications of that bit of information pushed Rodimus out of his initial denial. He was shouting, feeling dreadfully cold inside.

“Is this why the Matrix rescued me?!? Did it… _Change_ me while I was an embryo?!? How could you have kept that from me, I…”

“The Matrix did nothing to you!” Said Optimus, attempting to sound calm, and failing completely. “That was my first worry too, and Ratchet’s, so we monitored your development very closely…”

“Ratchet knew about this?” Rodimus laughed, sarcastically and a bit hysterical. “Of course he did! Who else has been lying to me my entire life?”

“No one. Until now, Ratchet and I were the only ones who knew, and I wish I’d…”

“The _only_ ones?”  Rodimus stopped shouting, and his voice dropped to a threatening whisper. “What about my other father? Doesn’t _he_ know about me?”

“Rodimus, that’s a very delica…”

“ _Does he know about me?!?_ Who is he?!? Where is he?!? Why have I never hea…”

“Rodimus!” Suddenly, Optimus found the tone of voice he used to command troops mid-battle and to address smart ass captured enemies who he had to interrogate. It was a tone that carried such authority as to make the bravest, most determined enemy- except for Megatron- hesitate.

It did make Rodimus stop and stare at him in shock.

“You have every right to be furious,” Optimus continued, still on the same tone, “but you won’t learn anything if you don’t give me time to answer your questions. Please,” he said, softening, “sit back down.”

Rodimus hadn’t even noticed he had stood up. Still trembling with anger, he acquiesced and sat.

“Well?” he pretty much spat the question at his father.

“No, son, your other father never knew about you. And I promise you, Rodimus, I will answer honestly to any question you have about any other subject. But when it comes to him, I’ll have to ask you to be a bit patient with me.”

“What the frag do you mean?!?” It wasn’t the first time Rodimus said “frag” in front of his father, but it was certainly the first time he said it _to_ him. “I have a right to know where I come from! Didn’t you just make an entire speech about how I’m a big boy now, and after four million years you _finally_ think I can be trusted?”

“I deserve that,” Optimus muttered, despondent. “Rodimus, I’ve _always_ trusted you. I was just afraid of how you’d react if you learned of all of this before you were ready. And you _are_ ready now, I don’t dispute that. You are ready to learn everything. It is just… I am not ready to tell it.”

Rodimus’s anger had been steadily rising, almost to the point of flaming, but at those last words it melted away into worry. Optimus suddenly looked small and vulnerable, as Rodimus had never seen him before, and there was an expression in those wise blue optics, a strange mixture of fear and regret, that gave him pause and forced him to pause and think.

None of this was like his father. Optimus Prime had always been honest with his children, even at the worst moments of the war. For him to have created and sustained a lie that elaborate- and got Ratchet, another paragon of honesty, to help him- there had to be a very good reason. And though Rodimus couldn’t think of any, it was clear that whatever it was, it had something to do with his missing second father.

It was strange to think of his father being involved with someone. Rodimus had heard the tragic story of Senator Shockwave, but that had happened too long before his birth for the Senator to be his father (thankfully. No matter how many stories he heard about the generous and passionate man Shockwave had once been, he couldn’t bring himself to associate that name with anything but the terrifying emotionless Decepticon scientist), and as far as he knew Optimus had never dated anyone else after that. Rodimus had always assumed it to be a case of a permanently broken spark, and felt dreadfully sorry for his father. But now he found that there had been someone after the Senator, after all…

But who? There had never been any rumor, any joke, any indication at all of any other former love from his father’s past. Was this mysterious man dead? Was that the reason for all this mystery? Perhaps he had died in an unusual, particularly horrifying way, and his father still found it painful to think about that?

No. That might explain his unwillingness to talk about the man, but in no way did it explain the elaborate lie, or how Rodimus had never heard about the relationship. Surely the other Autobots couldn’t have agreed to keep it a secret from him and Bumblebee to spare them any pain. After all, they had told them about Shockwave, and no relationship could have an end more tragic than that one.

Unless…

Rodimus gasped as he was assaulted by a dark suspicion. His father, who’d been watching him apprehensively, asked if he was alright, and Rodimus nodded and vaguely asked for more time to think.

He tried to rid himself of that disturbing thought, but it was useless. The more he fought to forget he had ever thought of it, the more sense it made.

What if there hasn’t been any relationship? What if the reason for all this secrecy was that Optimus hadn’t consented to the act that originated Rodimus? The young man shivered, and desperately hoped he was wrong. But it would explain both his father’s unwillingness to talk about the subject and the entire secrecy. Because if that was what had happened… Then Rodimus’s other father must be a Decepticon.

Not that Rodimus had any naïve notions about all Autobots being good people. Nor was he that prejudiced against Decepticons. (Actually, he knew that _that_ was something the Decepticon command didn't tolerate. Drift had told him that any Decepticon who was found guilty of rape was stripped of his badge, which meant automatic inclusion in the DJD list.)

No, the point was that if his theory was correct, and if it had been an Autobot, then there still wouldn’t be any reason for such a complex lie. The culprit would have been put in jail as soon as his victim became Prime, and if Optimus preferred not to talk about it, he could have given everyone the impression that his baby was the result of a one night stand with someone who’d died shortly afterwards. No one would be likely to pry on such a story.

But if it'd been a Decepticon, things would be more complicated. The aggressor would be out of his victim's immediate reach, and if word got out that Optimus Prime was expecting a Decepticon’s child, there might have been political and military implications. Rodimus remembered that when he and Bumblebee were little, his father’s worst fear was that someone might kidnap them for being the Prime’s sons. How much greater would that risk have been for Rodimus if there was a particularly cruel and violent Decepticon who might try to lay claim to him?

He shuddered just to think of it. This was all just a theory, and it might be completely wrong. But for now, it was the only one he could think of that would explain the entire charade. And as long as there was any chance of that theory being correct, there was no way he was going to pressure his father to talk about it.

“Ok,” he said, finally looking back at his anxious father. “I trust that there’s a good reason why you can’t tell me that yet.”

Optimus Prime sighed and briefly offlined his optics in relief.

“Thank you, Rodimus. I _will_ tell you everything one day. I promise.”

“Alright. So, you were explaining why you and Ratchet think the Matrix didn’t mess with me…?”

The topic, momentarily forgotten, was eating at him again. But it had the effect to bring his father back to his usual soothing, calm self, which was a great comfort.

“Throughout the entire gestation the Matrix repeatedly reassured me that it wasn’t touching you, and that your body, mind, and spark, were all 100% you. I didn’t take it entirely at its word, though, so I told Ratchet my worries, and he asked for so many examinations that I think I must have spent half of the gestation at his clinic. He still has those exams, in case you’d like to see them. They all say the same: there’s no reason for you to worry.  You developed exactly as you would have if I hadn’t been Prime.”

Rodimus nodded, feeling a weigh be lifted from him.

“I’ll drop by his office and ask him for those later. Speaking of Ratchet, I assume he got you sentio supplements?”

“He did.”

Rodimus sighed and rubbed his hands against his optics.

“Dad, I’m not sure how I feel about all of this, and I know I’ll have a thousand questions later, but right now I have a headache.”

“Understandable. You’ve been through quite the ordeal. Rest as much as you need.”

“I will. But before I go, there’s one thing I want to know. It’s not about my birth or any of this, though. It’s about Megatron.”

His father’s optics went wide, so Rodimus hurried to assure him.

“Don’t worry, I’m ok, it’s not about the shot. It’s just… He mentioned something about having met Bumblebee once, when Bee was a baby. Is that true?”

Optimus sighed and pressed his digits to his helm, trying to alleviate tension.

“I guess this is a day for intense conversations, huh? I’ll tell you, but please remember that this was a long time ago, when things with the Decepticons were very different, and try to not judge me too harshly.”

Rodimus twitched nervously on his seat. His father had kept _another_ important secret from him? How many of these were there?!?

“This happened back when I was Orion Pax,” his father continued. “The Decepticons had just started to employ violence, and arresting them had just started to become the main part of my job. But it couldn’t really be said that we were _enemies_ yet. Now, I think you know that back then there were times in which I had no adults who could look after Bumblebee while I was at work, so sometimes I had to leave him at the orphanage with the other boys.”

“Yeah, Trailbreaker told me.”

“And you also know about Zeta Prime’s vamparc ribbons. That was something that the Decepticons found out about before we did. In fact, they were the ones to warn us. Soundwave got word from Starscream, and went to patrol Nyon for clues. That was when he found the orphanage. Since there was a chance Zeta might attack at any moment, he took the kids, Bee included, and Megatron called me telling me to drop by his base to pick them up.”

“What?!? How come this never came up in conversation before? I know Bee was probably too young to remember it, but I’m surprised the other guys never brought it up.”

“That’s probably because they don’t like to think about Damus.”

“Damus? Where do I know that name from…? Oh, that’s Tarn, right? What does he have to do wi… No!”

Rodimus stared at his father in incredulous horror.

“Megatron could still sound very reasonable back in those days, Rodimus. The boy _wanted_ to stay with him. And during the interview, I understood why. There were shared horrors in their pasts that I don’t think anyone from outside of Tarn could understand. And potential adopters from that region aren’t exactly easy to find.”

“Being from Tarn was your main concern when looking for a father for Damus? Didn’t you think the kid was a _little bit_ too attached to his home city?” Rodimus asked sarcastically.

“Back then? No, I didn't. All I saw was a little child clinging to someone who made him feel safe and who seemed to love him. I’ve lost countless nights since, regretting the decision to allow that adoption. But I couldn’t have known back then what Megatron would turn that child into.”

Rodimus sighed and rose from his seat.

“If you say so. Dad, my headache is worse, I need to go lie down.”

"Are you alright? After what I just said, I mean..."

"I honestly don't know. I need some time to process all of this."

“Of course. Go rest. Just, one last thing... Do you intend to tell anyone about me being your carrier?"

“I prefer to keep it mostly a secret until I know the _whole story_. But that being said, I may tell Drift, and… It's a family matter, so Bumblebee has a right to know, I guess. But I don’t know if I should tell him, or if you should.”

“We could tell together, once you feel better.”

Rodimus laughed.

“ _That_ will be an interesting conversation. Well, I’m off to my room. Goodnight.”

But instead of walking to the door, he waited for his father to approach, and then hugged him. His processor was overheating from the excess of information, and no doubt his father’s was overheating from stress. Neither of them were in any condition to say anything else of importance, so they just hugged for a moment to reassure themselves and each other that things between them were- or at least would be- alright.

Leaving his father’s office, Rodimus went in search of Drift, and found him cleaning his sword on a nearby room.

“How are you?” Drift asked before Rodimus could say anything.

“I feel dreadful,” Rodimus replied, leaning his head on Drift’s shoulder.

“Is there anything I can do to help you?”

"Could you explain to me how the frag Megatron ended up here?"

Drift looked startled.

"Your father didn't tell you?"

"No, we had... Other things to talk about. I may tell you about them later, but not tonight."

"Ok. It was weird, actually. Megatron showed up, attacked a few humans, got your father to decide to return to the Autobot base and command a group to go against him, and then just... Surrendered."

"What?!? _Surrendered?_ What the frag is he playing at?"

"That's what we're all wondering. No one had any luck getting anything out of him this far. But his cell is safe, you don't have to worry."

"Alright. Drift... I had some really intense few weeks. Did Ironhide tell you?"

"He told me a bit, yeah. I'd love to hear the full story from you, but I'm guessing that's not what you want to do right now."

“No. What sounds good right now is to go back to our berthroom, wrestle a bit to unload stress, interface, and then spend the rest of the evening drinking engex in berth while watching something from Swerve’s list of stupidest Earth sitcoms. What do you think?”

Drift smiled.

“That does sound good. Let me try to teach you a meditation technique before we go to sleep, and I’m in.”

“Deal.”

Rodimus usually didn't have the necessary patience to attempt meditation, but after the day he'd just had, emptying his mind of thoughts sounded like a great idea. Between processing all that he had discovered, adjusting his interactions with his father to fit with however he felt about him once he'd slept on all the revelations, having a difficult but necessary conversation with his brother, and, oh, yes, _rescuing Cybertron from Galvatron_ , his next days were going to be hell, and he was glad for the opportunity to have a relaxing night in the middle of all of his troubles. And, he reflected as Drift pulled him into a quick kiss, at least he wouldn't be facing the upcoming troubles alone. No matter what, he was back with the people with whom he belonged.

It was good to be home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, done! Hot Rod's coming of age journey to become Rodimus was the trickiest part of this AU so far. It was fun to write, but I'm glad to move to the next part. :)


End file.
